


Title is a Work in Prose-es

by raggamuffian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is very pasionate about books, Castiel also has a lot of pets, Charlie is a shipping nerd who wants Dean to make her ship cannon, Fluff, I mean all of it, M/M, Writer!Castiel, Writer!Dean, cause he is a pet nerd, dean is a nerd, lots of fluff, this is really sappy, writers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggamuffian/pseuds/raggamuffian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel had a confession, he’d never read any of Dean Winchester’s series which was only big deal because his entire publishing company talked about those books to him. No spoilers of course, just trying to convince him to read them. That’s why when Dean sent a request to try to co-write a book to Castiel, Cas figured it was well past due to grab the “Supernatural“ series. </p><p>Or, Castiel Emanuel is a writer. Dean Winchester is also a writer. Sam Winchester though is just a meddling nerd who happens to be “Jimmy Novak’s” biggest fan.<br/>Operation, get my brother to team up with my favorite writer so I can his autograph is officially a go!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castiel

It had been a normal day. He’d finished up his book just two days ago which made this the calm after deadlines and before Naomi began pressuring for another. Still, Cas checked his email even before he managed to get a cup of coffee in him. It was almost a preprogramed action at this point; it had to be otherwise he would keep putting it off until people started to try calling him. Emails would always be preferred over phone calls.

Most of it was junk mail from companies that would never take him off their list. There was one email that stuck out so was spared from the great cleansing. A little unassuming email from “lawfulwinchester”.

Cas decided to grab another cup of coffee before clicking it. The detour for coffee ended up being a detour to feed the fish, then to feed Meg (no relation to Meg his coworker) her cat food which only set off Silver thumping his wings in his cage. Cas let Silver out as he chopped up some vegetables to feed to him which led to him wanting to take a shower with Cas which only made Meg want attention too, and, the next thing he knew, it was almost lunch time.

He glared at his assembly of animals as if they had planned it all out. They all stared back innocently at him. He sighed, and Silver took that as an invitation to rest on his shoulder. Meg saw her chance as Cas was scratching Silver’s beak to jump up on his lap. He looked between the two of them, then over to the fish in the small tank next to him.

“Do you want to sit on my lap too?” he asked the fish. There was no response.

Since Meg was making it hard to use his hands, he ended up watching videos for the better part of the day. When Netflix asked if he was still there for a second time around, he figured it was time to stop. The sun had already set, but it did set early in the winter. He still cringed when he looked at the time.

He found some microwave burrito stuck in the very back of the freezer. It was crusted with ice, but it was all he really had. He shooed Silver back into the cage while it was heating up. If he waited until afterwards, the raven would be eating it as soon as the microwave dinged.

When he finally sat down again with newly warmed food in hand, he opened up his word processor. It looked as empty as his brain felt. He never wrote series, but part of him wondered if he should. This down time right after a book was getting worse. He never could think of what else to write. If he continued the story of his characters though, maybe it would give him something, anything to work off of.

He debated it as he ate his cooling burrito. There weren’t any stories he made he wanted to continue. Thinking about most of his past characters made him cringe, especially the last book. It was rated well, but something about it never felt right to him, it never wrote like he wanted and, honestly, it was only saved because Naomi nearly rewrote the entire thing.

This was the fabled writing block he supposed as he crinkled the now empty wrapper into a ball.

Seeing a lost cause for what it was, he logged into his email once again. There was that little, unassuming email again. This time, Cas clicked it.

He glazed through it at first. It was from another author that wrote for the small publishing firm, Dean. Cas had heard about Dean before. He lived somewhere in the West, wrote the absolute best books, and was the dreamiest man to ever live. (Those last two seemed rather subjective to Cas, but that was what both Lisa and Charlie said.)

The first part of the email basically summarized the tidbits of info he had heard over the years—excluding the attractive and talented parts—of who Dean was, what he wrote, where he lived. Cas barely paid attention. It wasn’t until he noticed the word “together” twice until he really focused on the words.

“Since we have such different writing styles, I figured it would be cool to write together. I’ll be swinging into town at the end of the month. If you want, we can meet to discuss this in detail.”  
It was an intriguing proposal. Cas hadn’t written a book with another person. It might be a challenge. Really though, it could only happen if Dean was as good of a writer as everyone seemed to make him out to be. That meant actually reading the books though.

He stretched, shoulders popping. He glanced down to make sure it hadn’t gotten too late. He still had another thirty minutes until Charlie’s bookstore closed. He could make it as long as he walked fast (and she didn’t shut the door on him).

He hurried to his room to grab a proper shirt, jacket, and check his hair. It was a mess and Cas knew it was a lost cause. He still attempted to pat it down. It sprung right back up. Cas sighed and accepted his fate. He went over to his apartment door, put on his shoes, and was halfway down the hall before he remembered he forgot to feed Meg her supper. He looked down at his watch. She would have to wait sadly. There wasn’t enough time. He would suffer her wrath later.

He hesitated by the stairs for a moment before continuing to the elevator. The exercise would do him good after sitting all day, but, honestly, it was a lot of effort to go down all those stairs. He was already walking to Charlie’s place anyway. That would be fifty minutes of walking both ways. That was plenty of exercise for one day.

He actually had to stop along the way to catch his breath. He hadn’t done much in the way of exercise lately. He missed being in shape like he was in his teens, but, again, that was a lot of effort. He’d rather catch up on all the Netflix shows he was falling behind on.

With the break, he got to Charlie’s book store even closer to her closing time than he expected. It was still unlocked even though it was less than five minutes before closing. "Son of a dude!" Charlie moaned as the bell on her door rang. "I was about to-" Charlie stopped mid-rant as soon as she turned to see Cas's face. "Cas! Sorry I thought you were some douchenozzle coming in right before I closed."

He stood in the doorway, still holding the door open, not knowing if that was an invitation in or out. "I am, as you say, a douchenozzle that came in right before closing."

Charlie rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, but I know you're not a douche even if sometimes you do a douche thing." She hefted up a large stack of books, much larger than you'd assume she could lift with her small stature. "I need to take these suckers into the back room. If someone comes in, you should totally do your staring at them thing until they leave." She flashed him one of her insanely bright smiles before bouncing to the back room where she kept some of the damaged or currently unreleased books.

Taking that comment as an approval, Cas came in. He closed the door. He flipped the open sign to closed so that neither of them would have to suffer through a late night customer. He thought for another moment more before turning the lock too just as a precaution. Then he went to grab the books he came in for.

It was easy to find where Charlie had her display case for the supernatural books. They were where they always were--a large table set up right in front of the door. It would be a miracle if you didn't see them. He started to gather them up into his arms. He didn't look at their names at all. Instead, he picked up whichever books had a different looking cover. They all seemed to include a female duo either looking frightened or heroic. At least, they all did except for one where a rather tall man stood between the two women who, this time, looked angrily looking off the cover.

It intrigued Cas enough that he glanced at the spine. Book eight. This was the second to last book.

He tried not to jump to any of the possible story twists that could have created the rift between the main characters like that because he knew that would color how he read the other books as well. Instead, he moved behind the register and began checking himself out.

Charlie came back right as he was placing the last book into the bag. She didn’t protest That Cas was doing her job. Instead, she slid right to the front of the counter. Charlie held up one of the last books that hadn’t made it into the bag yet. “Finally jumping on the Dean train?” she asked.

“He emailed me earlier today asking if I wanted to write a book together.”

Charlie made an “ah” noise. “Cool! Do you think you’ll say yes?”

Cas looked down at the books now inside the plastic bag. He could vaguely see the covers with the two women hugging (book two, he had checked) through the bag still. “We’ll see.”

Charlie watched as Cas counted out the right number of pennies that had been jingling in his pockets for days now. He almost never got to use them anymore. “You know, I could let you have them on the house today if you tell me some juicy spoilers for Dean’s next book. It’s going to be the last one in the series and I bet they would be wicked spoilers.”

“Wouldn’t that make it less enjoyable to read?”

Charlie shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “Honestly? I haven’t even read the last book he released yet. The other one seemed so,” she shook her head back and forth, “queerbait-y. I think he’s going to chicken out and not capitalize on the greatest love story that could ever love story.” Charlie looked legitimately upset over this fact for a moment. Then she seemed to shake herself out of it and continued with, ”I mean he’s good but he might be a little too straight for me.” She playfully punched his arm. “Don’t let my bad vibes bring you down though. You should totally write a book with him! It might make you less of a grouchy loner to talk to someone else except me for a bit.”

“I’ll see,” he responded with vaguely.

He couldn’t deny his growing excitement as he walked home though. He hadn’t really had time to read lately. Just the possibility to spend all night reading again already made him walk a bit faster. He could imagine it all—the feel of the paper on his fingertips, the lingering smell of Charlie’s shop in the paper, the emotions building with every word he read.

He made it home in record time.

As Castiel expected, Meg had gone on a rampage in the house. She had ripped her food container off the refrigerator and somehow managed to open the plastic pitcher it was in. She looked immensely proud of herself as Cas picked up the almost empty pitcher. There wasn’t a scrap of food left on the floor even. She had eaten everything that had come out.

At least it made cleanup easier. The vet would yell at him if he ever told them about this though. They already complained about how fat she was getting. Looking down at her now, Cas swore she was already looking rounder

He leaned down to stroke her cheek. “If you become a ball, I won’t roll you around.” She didn’t think much of the threat obviously because she just purred.

Even with his threat, he still carried her as he moved to his reading chair. He placed her on his lap. She immediately flopped down, belly side up. Cas absently scratched at her tummy as he dug through the bag for the first book. He cracked open to the first page.

“To my little brother, so he’ll finally shut up.”

Cas gave a small laugh. That was the first thing that went onto the mental list of “Dean”. He had a little brother that annoyed him but they got along well enough anyway. He flipped to the next page. There was no preamble or even a chapter name. It went straight into a description of a fire. Cas completely forgot about the list he was supposed to be making. Instead, he let himself get carried away in the blaze.

Dean wrote the exact the opposite than Cas. Where Castiel wrote with long sentences which were coaxed slowly out of his chest to ramble elegantly, according to some at least, onto the page, Dean sentences were short. Direct. They knew the point they wanted to make and drove it home. There were no flowery words. Just emotion. That was what surprised Cas the most about Dean, even though the series was not necessarily about love, it still was about love. Familial love, love of friends, love that sprung from random encounters, love of life itself; it was all there, tucked within the white areas between the black of the letters. A preverbal ocean of unsaid words that could only equate to love.

In other news, Cas finally understood the term “homoerotic subtext” much better than he did thirty hours ago.

He also understood why everyone seemed so adamant he should read Dean’s books. Cas couldn’t remember the last time he put any sort of romantic interest into his stories. Instead, they were filled with long thought wisdom, problems only solved with reason.

At least, that is what the people on the back of his books said.

Others called it boring.

It was probably somewhere in the middle.

Sometime between when Maria found the ghost of her father and when Britch quietly admitted that her own father had been abusive, Cas found himself with a phone in hand typing and barely looking, “Yes” into an email.

Castiel didn’t put down the books for the next few days. He mainly lived off pizza which he ate with one hand in his bed. Meg seemed to enjoy this new arrangement. She would spend her day lounging at his side and occasionally nab a slice for herself. Silver was less than happy with it which Cas felt guilty about after he finally finished the eighth book.

He laid in his bed, looking up at the ceiling feeling breathless thinking about what he read over the past few days. It was quiet until Silver began beating his wings on the cage’s bars. Cas scrambled up. He let the bird out who immediately spread his wings out and started flying loops by the ceiling.

There should be some fresh food that he could cut up for Silver. At least, Cas remembered reading on a bus. Why else would he take a bus unless he was going to the grocery store? He found an egg. It was messy and wasn’t the best nutritionally, but it was Silver’s favorite. Cas put it out for him.

While Silver was happily enjoying that, Cas moved on to refilling Meg’s water bowl with fresh water. He took away the food bowl that he had been free feeding her as well and replaced it with a small amount. Meg was going to rebel once she realized what he had done, but he had to do it.

He was halfway through cleaning the betta’s tank when he realized he hasn’t checked his email in days.

He finishes up as quickly as he can before booting up his computer. He presses the on button with his toe so he can let it start up as he washes his hands. It’s a slow process to access his email account. It is even slower to sift through all the spam. When he does though, he is surprised there was no email back from Dean.

He even checked to make sure he sent the email agreeing to meet like he thought. He did.

There was nothing to do but wait.

The day before Dean was supposed to come to town, Cas sent an email detailing where and when they could meet. There wasn’t a reply again. Still, Cas went to the coffee shop he mentioned. He sat at the table he said he would sit at.

And he waited.

The time ticked on.

Cas fished inside his bag for another book. It was one that he had meant to read but never had the time. It was written by an old friend of his. It wasn’t his normal sort of book (which wasn’t a surprise considering what Balthazar did for fun), but it was actually quite good. He was even getting into it right as he heard someone walk up to him.

At first he didn’t register it until the steps made an “uh” noise. Cas looked up from his book to see…

Dean. This was Dean.

He wasn’t sure how he knew this, but Cas knew this.

Cas stood up. He held out his hand. “Dean Winchester?”

The scene had played out in his mind enough. Dean would make a joke about that being his name, smile, and shake his hand. This was the scene that Cas had planned on from the “Dean” character he had built within his head. What he had not planned on was Dean to burst out with, “Dude, I’m sorry. My brother sent that email. He’s got like this huge crush on you.”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh which just earned him a dirty stare from Dean. “I admit I have been curious why the email and your book had such a different feel. I guess I know why now.”

“Oh,” there might have been a touch of blush creeping onto Dean’s face. “You really read my books then?”

“Yes. I enjoyed them very much.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome.”

There was a moment of silence between them where they both just stared at each other. Cas couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not, or who started it. The silence was going nowhere though, so finally he asked,

“So you wouldn’t be interested in collaboration?”

“What?”

“If it was your brother that extended the invitation before, this time I formally extend it to you.”

“I—Really? You actually wanna?”

“Yes, I really do want to.”

Dean gave a smile that once again sparked that warmth that popped into Cas’s stomach. Yes, Cas really wanted to write a book with this man.

“Y-yeah! That would be cool, awesome."


	2. Dean

Dean had driven for almost nine hours only to get thrown almost directly into a fight with the publishing agency. He had told them for fucking months that he wasn’t going to get the last book out on schedule. He told them that before he even finished the last book. What did they still do? Not give him a freaking break that’s what.

It took beating down a few doors, but he finally got a few months extension. It was now their problem to deal with any backlash. He washed his hands of the entire thing.

That was a lie, he was still shaking just thinking what his fans might think when they found out his new book was being postponed. He was supposed to have a draft turned in in less than a month, and he hadn’t even written an outline. A few extra months wasn’t going to cut it here.

The main problem was this was supposed to be the last book. You’d think that after the story was part of him for almost twenty-two years, he would have figured out the ending by now. It seemed like the closer to the end it got though, the harder it was to end it. He was caught between what he wanted to do and what he thought was right to do.

Maybe he could cop out and make the series longer. People were still buying the books after all. No one told him to end it.

But it was always his plan to end it here. At least, it was his plan once he started to publish them. Course, most of his other plans had changed. He could always change this plan too. It wouldn’t be that bad to write another book. In fact, he wanted to. There was already a Maria and Britch sized hole growing in his heart and it was just going to get worse once he officially stopped writing them.

He groaned as he threw himself into the back of the Impala. It was only three pm, but he was beat. He was going to let himself get a few hours then he would head off again. He wasn’t good at writing when he was traveling like this. Sure, he thought of stories while he was driving, but driving made him too tired to actually _write_ write. And, at the pace he was going, he was going to need all the writing time he could fit in to get this book done in time.

He might have drifted off some because there was definitely a wet spot where his mouth had been when his phone started to ring. He would have ignored it, but Aerosmith’s “Dude looks like a Lady” informed him that it was Sammy calling.

Dean would complain about Sammy calling him when he was trying to sleep, but he would never ignore his brother.

Most of the time.

Maybe he would next time.

He would totally ignore Sammy next time he called.

“You what?” Dean asked again because, seriously, this was low even for Sammy.

“I didn’t think he would say yes,” Sammy replied sheepishly. “He seemed really excited to meet you actually. He must have bad tastes in books.”

“You have bad tastes in books,” Dean growled because seriously, Sammy seriously went behind his back and set up a meet with Dean’s freaking favorite author.

Holy shit, Dean was going to meet Jimmy Novak.

Wait, did he even have good enough clothes to wear? They didn’t stink because they were in his duffle with dirty socks too long did they? Did he even shave today? What about—

“Dean,” Sammy’s voice cut through the internal panic going through Dean’s mind. “Stop freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

You could almost feel Sammy’s bitchface through the phone. “Yes you are.”

There was a burst of static, a few clunking noises, then a new voice said, “So stop and don’t ruin this for us!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Hi, Jo.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Winchester.”

“I didn’t,” Dean said.

"I was talking to Sam,” she said. “But don’t roll your eyes at me either.”

“I didn’t!”

“Sure,” Jo drawled out the word. “I am serious though, you can’t mess this up for us. We need Novak’s autograph, so you better be a picture perfect gentleman to him.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll cut off your balls,” she said cheerfully.

“Cut off Sammy’s balls. He was the one with the plan here.”

“I’ll cut off Sam’s balls too don’t worry.”

“Hey!” Sammy shouted.

There was another round of shuffling sounds and then Sammy was back on the line. “Alright. You got a pen?”

“Why?”

“Because I need to tell you were to meet up with him.”

“You’re not just pulling my leg here?”

“No, why would I?”

“Shit,” Dean muttered. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. “Just… give me a second.” He didn’t bother looking for a pen like Sammy asked. Instead, he stuck his head between his legs. This was possibly one of the craziest things that happened to him in his life, and that was saying something. He took a few more deep breaths before saying. “Shoot.”

“Alright. It’s a place called Cloud Nine. It’s—“

“I know the place,” Dean cut Sammy off. For once, he really did know it too. He had already passed by it three times today trying to navigate the hell of the city he was in. It was hard to miss with its goddamn neon lights in the front. “This better not be a prank, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sammy said. You could hear the laugh he was trying to hold back in his voice. “But no. It’s not a prank.”

“So when do I got to go meet the guy?”

“Uh.”

Uh? What did that mean. “Sammy?”

“Now?”

 

* * *

 

Dean wasn’t sure if stress driving was a thing, but, if it was, that’s definitely what he did trying to get to Cloud Nine.

To his surprise, it was a little coffee shop. The name made it sound more like a bar or a strip club. The outside definitely didn’t help that either. Instead though, it was actually a really casual, down to earth place.

It was weird.

Jimmy, or more like Sammy, said he was going to sit at the table in the back, so Dean started to weave through the seemly randomly placed tables to the back of the room.

He recognized the trench coat before he recognized the face.

He might have let out a squeak.

Jimmy turned to face him.

There he was. Holy shit, there he was.

Dean felt a stupid blush coming on. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t a damn teenage girl with a crush. Sure, this was the author that Dean admired. Hell, admired might still be too tame of a word here. This was the author that inspired Dean to publish his books. This was the author that fit right next to Vonnegut in his heart right here in front of him.

“Dean Winchester?”

Oh God, Jimmy Novak recognized him and knew his name holy shit. He did the only thing he knew how to do. Panicked. “Dude, I’m sorry. My brother sent that email. He’s got like this huge crush on you,” he shouted. Literally shouted. Great.

The damn bastard actually laughed. Laughed! He wiped at the corner of his eye like that laugh was enough to bring tears to his face or something. “I admit I have been curious why the email and your book had such a different feel. I guess I know why now.”

Dean’s face felt on fire now. “You read my books?”

“Yes. I enjoyed them very much.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome,” Dean let out stupidly. Somehow this was real. He was sitting in front of his favorite author with literally no sleep. And Jimmy said that they were good. Dean’s books were good. This had to be a dream.

“So you wouldn’t be interested in collaboration?”

Dean was 100% sure his brain short circuited at that very moment. “What?” he squeaked.

“If it was your brother that extended the invitation before, this time I formally extend it to you.”

“I—Really? You actually wanna?”

“Yes, I really do want to.”

“Y-yeah! That would be cool, awesome.” Dean realized that he was smiling like a nerd, but his literally couldn’t keep the smile off his face. His cheeks heated up more. But Cas was smiling too, so he obviously wasn’t off put by it.

Did he really use the word off put? Dean thought. All it took was to stand next to Cas to start using phrases like that.

This is how, Dean Winchester, a high school drop out who’s only accomplishment was to write one semi-famous book series, got to sit next to a damned world renowned author to eat weird crumbly pastries and talk about a future where the two of them would write a book together.

What was eventually decided was Dean would write the first chapter and send it to Cas to read. Cas would then write the next chapter then send it to Dean. In the end, Cas would go through to edit it first. Then Dean would do the same. That was the general plan at least. There was no time limit since it was never formally announced. Instead, they would do it when they had time.

So first, he needed to finish Supernatural.

Attempt was a better word here.            

He had an outline now. It was jumpy as hell. It didn’t feel like complete, riddled with plot holes, and it sucked balls. It was an outline, but it was a crappy outline.

But it was an outline.

He threw his journal to the chair across the room. He aimed a little high so it ended up banging against the wall. He cringed at the thump. He didn’t hear his neighbors yelling at him though so that was a plus.

There was something missing in his writing lately. He knew what it was. He was holding back. He wasn’t even sure what he was holding back. Being popular sucked. There was no way to please everyone which just made Dean feel more antsy. He didn’t think he would ever try to be a people’s pleaser like this. He told himself, promised himself, he wouldn’t. Turns out he was lying to himself. Again.

He opened up a new notebook to brain storm ideas for the collab. He grabbed a pen this time instead of a pencil. Whatever he came up with, he was going to keep. That’s how he wrote before. That’s how he would write now.

About an hour in, he decided this entire thing was a mistake. So far he had stared at a completely blank page for half an hour. The other half he started to draw stick figures having gun fights.

He would never measure up to how Cas wrote. Sure, the writing was boring as hell sometimes but the old fantasy vibe and the awesome plot twists were what Dean lived for. He was an even bigger fan than Sammy was and that was saying something. Or maybe he wasn’t because Sammy could get pretty crazy about Jim-no, Castiel’s writing. Crazy enough to pretend to be Dean just to set up a meet. But still, Dean loved almost every single one of Jimmy Novak’s stories. Cas was probably expecting Dean to make a fantasy based story to fit Cas’s story telling more seeing as Dean was the newbie here. Dean had always wanted to do that, so he didn’t complain, but he fucking sucked at thinking of plots like Cas wrote. He didn’t think too deeply about the details of stuff. He even made Sammy research the supernatural creatures in his stories because if he didn’t, then Dean would write vampires every single time. He didn't feel like looking for more and more obscure monsters every time. Everyone loved vampires anyway. Or something.

Dean furiously slapped his pen down on the paper. This really wasn’t going to work. He got up to grab his other writing journal. He stooped down to grab it. For some reason he paused like that. He didn’t straighten up. Instead, he sat down on the floor. His brain felt blank. Too blank. He let his eyes roam around his room. They glazed over most things. His medieval swords, his book collection, record collection, even his family photos were all seemly less interesting than normal. Instead, his eyes rested on his desktop. He barely used it for writing since he bought that writing to text thingy software.

He left the journal on the floor as he got up. He drifted to the desktop. It came to life as he jerked his mouse. He opened up word. He stared at the blank screen for a moment before closing his eyes…

_“What are you doing?”_

_Dean jumped and minimized his screen. He tried to not look guilty as he spun his chair around. There stood Sammy. He was looking especially annoying today. His pimply face scrunched up. “Are you writing love letters?”_

Dean paused. Why did he make Sammy so lame already? He went back, highlighted the entire section, and deleted it. He stood staring at the once again blank screen. Slowly, he moved the mouse up to the undo button. Instead, he highlighted over the name Dean and changed it to David. He moved to Sammy and changed that to Cara. That was better.

_“No,” David said. His face felt hot. He hoped his sister didn’t see._

_Of course she did though. She had devil eyes that saw all. They narrowed. “Yeah? Why are you blushing then, dork?”_

_“Nerd.”_

_Cara rolled her eyes. “You know that’s like you admitting I’m right right?”_

_“Shut up, nerd.” Course, the words were dulled by his blush. His blush could shut up too._

He reread everything a few times. It created a tug in his heart he hadn’t felt in a while. It was the urge to write. He reread the passage one more time, and began to type in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I've been in Pokemon Go hell. It's been fun.


	3. Castiel

As soon as Dean had left Cloud Nine, Cas took out his writing notebook to record his observations. He had finished writing down Dean’s height, hair color, and was in the process of explaining what sort of green Dean’s eyes were (he was still struggling on what the shade would be called), before his pencil stilled. None of those things seemed important to who Dean was.

Dean was interesting. Dynamic in a way Castiel couldn’t explain. When Dean was in the room, everything seemed to revolve around him. Perhaps it was his beauty. It was enough to turn the heads. From what Cas had gathered from Dean though, that observation would not be appreciated.

Cas didn’t strike out the list he had wrote for Dean, but he did flip to a new page. He wrote “dynamic” on the first line. He looked at the word for a few moments before adding in parenthesis, “glowing” because that is what Dean was—glowing, bright, blinding in the best way. He wrote all those down too.

He was engrossed enough with writing that he didn’t notice Gabriel until he flopped down in the chair Dean had sat in earlier. Castiel didn’t even have time to look up before Gabe was asking, “So, little nephew of my eye, who was your eye candy that I spied?”

Cas glared at him. “Most of those words were useless and made your sentence confusing.”

“Nephew, who was hot stud?” Gabriel amended.

“There was no “hot stud” here.”

“Sorry, I should have asked who was,” Gabriel snatched up Castiel’s notebook. He skimmed the page for a moment before saying, “the radiant, mesmerizing, graceful, man who sat next to you for, oh, I don’t know, two and a half hours today?” Gabriel cringed. “Ouch, you wrote beautiful smile three times so far. You are already in too deep, bro. How many dates has it been and why haven’t you taken him here on any of them?”

“Dean wasn’t a date.”

Gabe whistled. “You better hook that sucker in fast, bro. He’s what you’d call a hot commodity.”

“We aren’t going to date,” Cas restated.

“Yeah and I’m not a monkey’s uncle.”

“You aren’t a monkey’s uncle.”

“Whoa, wait a second! You aren’t a monkey? Fooled again and for so long!” Cas just rolled his eyes and tried to grab his notebook out from Gabe’s hands again. Gabe only held it father away. “You’re no fun.”

“You taking my notebook is not fun,” Cas said. He held out his hand, palm up, to Gabe. “Give it back.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Traditionally, it is abracadabra although I have heard presto chango used as well.”

Gabe stared across the table at him for a good moment before slowly lowering the notebook into Cas’s out stretched hands. “You know I was talking about please right?”

“Oh,” Cas said. “Please. And thank you.”

Gabe patted Cas’s cheek. “Now you are learning.”

\---

Cas woke up with his first hangover in years. He should have expected it seeing he did spend the night with both Gabe and Charlie. They were very excited to hear “every juicy detail” as they so eloquently put. With the both of them working together, it was very hard to say no especially after they brought out the alcohol.

He didn’t remember how much he drank. He supposed that was a bad sign. He did remember the night however which meant it could have been worse.

He started his morning ritual yet again. First was he started up his computer, then to the coffee maker to grab a cup. Once he sat down at his desk again, the computer had booted up so he opened his email up. He expected an email from Naomi which he purposely ignored. What he did not expect was an email from Dean, but, nevertheless, there it was.

This time, it was from Dean’s actual email, unlawfulwinchester. He checked the clock.  It had been sent approximately 26 hours since the two had met. Seeing as Dean had to drive his nine hours to even get back home, it didn’t add up in Cas’s brain. It all seemed too soon. It caused anxiety to bloom in his stomach. Would he be able to match up with Dean’s speed? What if he stalled because he couldn’t handle the story Dean had just written.

He had refused to write the first chapter when Dean offered because he wasn’t sure he was capable of thinking of a plot. Now, he was regretting that decision because now he’d have to work with whatever Dean gave him. It could be anything. Dean didn’t give him a clue at the café, and the email he sent was blank except for the subject bar that simply said “1st chap draft”. Even the word document didn’t tell a story. It was simply titled “colab”

Meg scratched at his leg until he got up to feed her. He wasn’t ignoring the email exactly. In fact, he was thinking about it too much. He had things he had to do before he could read what Dean sent though. That is what he kept telling himself as he busied around the apartment. He fed all the animals first of all then started cleaning the mess Gabe and Charlie had made of the main room. For two little people, they did certainly leave a large mess. He would have to figure out their secret someday.

He sat at his computer only to start looking for names for his betta. As he was on his third website with no luck, he realized he was stalling. It felt eerily similar to how he responded to Dean’s brother’s email—Dean had called him Sammy he thinks—except now it was intention instead of accidental.

He got up to refill his mug of coffee. This experience had no right being as scary as it was. Neither of them gave each other expectations. Instead, they had tried to make it a fun process. That was the general vibe he got from Dean at least.

Fueled with coffee, Cas sat once again in front of his screen. He clicked on the attachment, saved it, and let it open.

His breath picked up again as he stared at the first sentence. He didn’t even register what it said. Part of him almost wanted to shut down the draft, email Dean, and say it wouldn’t work out. Then he remembered Dean’s smile. It was a kind smile. He remembered the books Dean wrote. They felt so earnest in a way Cas never could hope to accomplish.

So Cas read. He read all 14 pages as carefully as he could. He didn’t know what he expected from Dean’s first chapter. He hadn’t even been thinking about it yet. They didn’t set a deadline on when they’d send each other the next chapter. He didn’t expect Dean to have sent a draft for weeks. After all, he still had the last book of Supernatural to write. From what he could tell though, it was good. The characters had an obvious dynamic just like Dean was famous for. It was rough of course, but what else would you expect from a first draft.

The biggest problem though was that Dean had left a lot open for Castiel to work with. There were only three characters so far, they never went outside and only vaguely talked about their world (enough so you know it was based on Earth and it was current or near current time). Really, the story nearly had no plot except for the fact that Cara was suspended from school and David had some secret he was hiding in his emails that Cara was about to discover as she just found Daniel’s email still logged on.

It didn’t require a character’s analysis to figure out Cara would snoop. She was highly inquisitive with no patience for secrets. She would go through David’s email. It was obvious that this was the start of the story. Dean had created the characters but had given almost full control of the plot to Cas.

It seemed too soon to reveal the substance of the story. Maybe the emails would be in code. Maybe David had deleted the emails and this information wasn’t told to the readers. Maybe the emails would reveal that David needed help and he would be sent to a mental hospital for care. Maybe…

Maybe…

Castiel bit his lip. It felt risky. Those words of Charlie kept replaying in his head, about Dean being too straight. It wasn’t where Dean would expect. That was the point of this though wasn’t it? It was to be unexpected.

Normally Cas would first look into the names of a new character, but this time he completely closed his browser. He didn’t even set his music play list. Instead, he just simply typed.

_Cassidy couldn’t help the bubble of excitement when he heard his phone notification from across the room. David never emailed him this late at night. It was one of the best parts of David’s personality, he was always thoughtful almost to a fault. Still, Cassidy couldn’t help but think maybe it was David emailing him one last time before he went to class thinking the noise wouldn’t wake him._

_He threw his covers to the side as he bounded to the dresser where his phone lay. He pulled it close to his chest as he hurried back to his bed. He navigated his way to his email. It took almost a full minute for the page to fully load. Each second that ticked by felt like agony._

_Finally he saw what he was looking for, David’s name. He felt himself mash that part of the screen a little too forcefully as if that would make the email load any faster._

_His heart sank as he read the email however._

_“i bet ur a nerd”_

_It was short but worse than that, it didn’t feel or sound like David at all._

_Cassidy sat up in his bed. It felt more formal this way for some reason. “Who is this?” He didn’t have to wait long for a reply._

_“ur dumb boyfriend who else”_

_Cassidy almost wrote “You’re not David.” He blushed at himself for that once he realized what that would imply. Instead, he simply typed “Who?” He almost sent the email before a thought occurred to him. He pressed enter to make a new line. “Is this Cara?”_

_This time there was no reply. After a few minutes, Cassidy fell into an uneasy sleep._

Somehow the words kept flowing. Before he knew it, Cas had written a chapter that more than rivaled Dean’s in length in less than, Cas looked down, six hours. It was the fastest he had written since maybe his third book. It would have gone faster if he had not taken so long composing another section to go before Cassidy tried to go to bed. Cas figured that the readers would want a few details of the character before being thrown into his bedroom after all. He lived in Australia, had three cats, was almost two years older than David, had skipped a university and gone straight into working for his father, and had been emailing David for nearly three months now.

He was also had a very big crush on David ever since he had read David’s fanfiction rendition of an unnamed book series which Cas secretly thought of as the Supernatural series as a nod to Dean’s own writing.

He waited another hour before sending it to Dean.

About half an hour he got a text from Dean with one simple word and a question mark. “Gay?”

“Are you asking about me or the character? ;)” Cas hesitated for a moment. He changed the winking face to a cat face. No, that wasn’t right either. Both of those could be a little too forward at the moment. He changed it to a simple smiling face.

It took almost an hour for Dean to reply with “book”.

“Yes unless that makes you uncomfortable?? ):”

“lets do this”

Cas couldn’t stop smiling.

After that, there was a steady stream of texts between the two of them. Most of them were inane things such as a meme Cas found on the internet or Dean texting four nearly identical pictures of a burger so that Cas could pick the one to go on Dean’s Instagram.

Cas bookmarked the Instagram even though he saw most of the pictures before Dean posted them anyway. That went on for almost a week before Cas broke down and made his own Instagram so that he would get a notification from Dean whenever he posted a new picture.

It felt weird to have nothing in his profile, so he posted one picture a piece of Meg, Silver, and the yet unnamed betta. He got one like on Meg’s picture. He showed it to her. “I know you are the most famous. Please don’t let this go to your head.”

She spent the next hour lording over Silver in what was obviously a show of popularity dominance.

He took another picture of her looking smugly at Silver. This one got two likes.

It also got a comment from Dean. “dude why r u following me?”

“It was easier than checking your page every day.”

“dude”

He ended the day with one follower by the name of Dean Winchester.

After that, he didn’t post any more pictures online. Instead, he sent more pictures of Meg directly to Dean. Dean added “cat commentary” to absolutely every picture.

“can I haz birdburger” Dean texted at the newest picture Cas sent.

Castiel just rolled his eyes. “That’s a very old meme. No one uses it anymore.” He added a few cat laughing faces at the end.

“wat no way! It’s golden y rnt you using it anymore??”

“I can’t say for everyone, Dean, but maybe it’s because it’s downplaying cat’s natural intelligence.”

“dude that’s the dorkiest thing you evr said” Another ding happened before Cas could type out a response. “don’t think people think cats are smart”

“People should. They are very intelligent. It’s very rude to the cats not to think so. :(”

Dean proceeded to spam him with dumb cat videos for the rest of the week as if that would prove cats were dumb. Cas bookmarked them all.


	4. Coming Together (a few months later)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read until the end for my BS excuses for why this took a year to post.

Okay. If Dean was being honest with himself (which rarely happened), his life was very gay. Okay, it wasn’t just gay. It was Gay. Gay with a capital G. Like, he was practically full on flirting with a man who was obviously interested. Why else would Cas imply he was gay before. Cas didn’t have to unless he wanted Dean to know. That would imply that Cas was wanting Dean to know there was potential here which would imply Cas had gay feelings for Dean which Dean was 100% cool with returning.

That or Cas was the epitome of that meme.

Dean typed “I’m gay” into Google. It wasn’t hard to find the Vine on YouTube. He copied the link and sent it off to Cas.

Cas responded immediately with three clapping emojis (or were they praying?) which… didn’t tell Dean much.

One day he would understand whatever language Cas was communicating in.

One time he added a smiling face to his text and only got back a string of emojis including thumbs up, laughing crying faces, and a turtle in some random order. He figured that was Cas’s way of giving approval but also telling Dean he was slow on using them.

He tried showing Sam the text for a second opinion, but Sammy just shrugged saying something like, “every person uses emojis differently.” It at least made Dean feel less stupid but he also had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was holding back since Dean still hadn’t asked Cas for an autograph. (He forget while sitting in the café and then it seemed wrong to ask over texts. Bite him.)

He absently scrolled back through the text they had sent each other since it didn’t look like Cas would send another response. He was probably writing since Dean had sent his chapter a few hours ago. Dean himself should also be writing. Supernatural’s deadline was looming over his shoulder. Every time he tried writing though, he would remember that stupid conversation he got into with Cas – that conversation when he finally broke down and used that stupid smile face.

He would reread that sting of texts sometimes. He didn’t know why because each time they sent this weirdly sharp feeling through his chest. He didn’t get why. Maybe it was how Cas literally wrote a ten page text message of why he thought Maria and Britch should get together, dissed the new love interest for Britch, and ended it with the message “Britch and Maria were made for each other” punctuated with a crying face. Maybe it was the light banter afterwards where Cas added emojis after every word. Maybe it was the flirty way Cas had texted “make me” with winking faces instead of spaces.

Or maybe it was the way Dean ruined it all by telling Cas he was a lot different over texts than in person, how Cas went silent for an hour after that. How Dean had to finally give in and text that stupid smiling face after “Cas, don’t ever change.”

It was definitely not the text that Cas sent almost a day later with that string of emojis that Dean still couldn’t quite comprehend.

Breaking down, Dean started to type into the message box, “u writing?”

Dean waited a moment before the icon appeared to show Cas was typing. “Yes” The typing icon didn’t disappear though so Dean waited until the next text appeared. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing,” Dean sent. Then quickly typed before he lost his nerve, “still think Maria and Britch should hook up?”

“Yes!!!!!”

Dean sighed. “k get back to riting”

Cas responded with a few wide mouthed smiling faces.

Dean wasn’t a people pleaser. It didn’t matter what Cas thought. He didn’t have to hook Maria and Britch together if he didn’t want to.

He still restructured his outline to give the two a chance.

He reasoned with himself as he scratched over certain sections that it wasn’t committing to leave the option open. After all, his characters seemed to have a mind of their own. They didn’t have to take the chance if they didn’t want to. Britch could end up with the demon that showed up in book six and converted to helping the two women out in book eight like he planned. Maria could still sacrifice herself to protect Britch. It still all could happen.

He kept telling all this to himself as a very explicitly textual love confession started to flow from his pen. He didn’t have to keep it. It was just an option.

He tore all the pages he wrote out of his notebook. Just in case though, he set them carefully on his dresser before starting from the beginning of the book.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. He didn’t concentrate on whether the two would get together or if one would die. He had both of the scenes written now, so it would be easy to do either. He would just see which one the characters led him to.

He stayed hunched over his notebook until his phone dinged with a new email. He shot up midword, smearing ink across the page as he did so. He cursed loudly as his back popped loudly from the movement. Still cringing in pain, he half flung himself over to his phone, half fell onto his phone. He tried to tempter his excitement. He couldn’t help it though. There was only one person who would email him on that email this late at night.

Wait, scratch that. He winced at the time flashing on his screen. At this point, it was early in the morning.

He still clicked Cas’s email. There was no way in hell he would be able to sleep if he didn’t at least skim the chapter. Skimming of course lead to reading. Reading of course lead to finishing. Finishing lead to the overwhelming need to pee.

This time every joint in his body seemed to crack as he hobbled his way to the bathroom. He braced himself for when he turned on the bathroom light. Still, he immediately had to cover his eyes to make them stop burning. Jeez, he hadn’t pulled an all-nighter in years.

 Even with the exhaustion pulling at his bones, he still managed to find his way back to the bedroom. He looked at his bed. It was tempting to fall face down into it. There was an itch under his skin though that told him that he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried. That was the worst part of being inspired. So, fate decided, he sat down on his computer instead. Opening up Cas’s email, he clicked reply and began to type directly to Cas.

Somewhere along the way, the two of them had started to directly reply to each other’s emails. Since Dean was still being perfectly honest with himself (probably due to sleep deprivation), he had to admit that the book was practically Cas’s and his own love story that was unfolding. Sometimes the writing trailed behind, sometimes it went before Cas and Dean made that step, but it was a mirror all the same. It was pretty obvious that Cassidy was Cas – working for his father, born outside of the US, wrote (although Cassidy wrote for a blog). Cas would have had to know David was a representation of Dean too. They had both dropped enough hints.

If he did what he was thinking right now, then Cas would know exactly what Dean wanted.

Dean took a steading breath and typed out David’s last email to Cassidy…

_“I love you.”_

 

* * *

 

 

At this point, Cas always woke up excited to turn on his computer. There was almost always an email from Dean waiting for him the day after Cas sent his own email out. It didn’t matter when Cas sent one out either. Dean always sent one back in less than a day. How Dean did it was still a mystery to Cas. He was not about to complain however. Not while Cas was reading Dean’s handiwork.

There was something almost final about the email Dean sent Cas this time. At this point, there story felt almost complete. Cara had gotten into her school of her dreams. She had just left for it on a scholarship. David finally confronted their dad. While it didn’t end prettily, David was finally out of the abusive house. Cassidy had finally admitted to his own parents he was in a long distance relationship with a man although that confrontation ended well.

Now it was up to Cas to finally wrap together it all. All he could do however is read the last words in Dean’s chapter.

All Cas could think about was the simple message David sent Cassidy.

 

_"I love you.”_

 

It was David’s last message to Cassidy. At least, that was what David thought. No one would want to date a homeless, jobless, penniless high school dropout. Even with all that context, Castiel couldn’t help the twinge of warmth at the sight of Dean’s words. They also brought the overwhelming need to call Dean instead of typing, to hear Dean’s voice, to see his face, to feel his warmth, to touch him just to make sure he was real.

He fumbled with his phone. Pulling Dean’s name out of his contact list came easily to him now it was practically muscle memory. He had done it so many times before even if he never could muster up enough bravery to press the call button. Before he could really process what was happening, he had already lifted his phone to his ear. The phone rang so many times, Cas was sure that it would go to voicemail. Still, Dean answered at what must have been the last ring.

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice sounded rough with sleep.

“Can I come over?”

There was a small sigh. “Cas, I’m like nine hours away. You would get here at ten in the damn morning.”

“Please.”

“Would you seriously drive all the way over here?”

“I’d take a bus if I had to. I’d steal a car, I’d hitchhike, I’d do anything,” Castiel answered truthfully. He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line, but then nothing. Cas let the silence spread for a good ten seconds before continuing, “Dean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m, that was just,” Dean stuttered. ”I’ll come over. Text me your address.”

“Dean.”

“No, I’ll drive. You’re probably the type that drives like a hundred year old. I’ll be over in seven and a half hours tops.”

“Dean, that’s not what—“

“Seven hours and a half tops.”

And then the phone line went dead. Cas stared at it forlornly. Seven and a half more hours then.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Castiel was such a naive bastard. Or maybe he wasn’t naive; maybe he knew exactly what he was doing and kept doing it to yank Dean’s chains. Cas said he’d do anything to be with Dean. Dean somehow believed him.

Halfway out of his town, he wondered if he should have brought a change of clothes. That would have been a good idea if he thought of it at the time, but, right now, he really needed to get to Cas. Why exactly though? Did Cas think of the book in the same twisted way as Dean did? Would they kiss? Was that what Dean expected when he got to Cas’s door? Would it fling open and they would do that chick-flick thing where they would say how much they missed each other before kissing their way to happiness? To a relationship? Were they in some twisted way cyber dating? (Writing dating? Super weird LARPing dating?)

He cranked up the Bon Jovi. No more thinking. Drive. Keep driving. Breathe. No use getting worked up. After that, the trip blended together to the one long stretch of road it was. One hour passed. Two hours passed. The third hour started to slow down. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh hours felt like one hour. The eight hour was actually only 26 minutes, yet it felt the longest of them all.

He parked as carefully as he could by Cas’s apartment building. It was hard with shaking hands and the heavy weight of nervousness in his stomach. He somehow managed though. He even managed not to fall down when he stepped out of the car. That was a close call though.

After he got his footing, it was surprisingly easy to rush to Cas’s door. He only had to knock once before the door was flung open.

Cas stood as disheveled looking as he always did. He looked still managed to look surprised even though he was the one who invited Dean in the first place.

“Hey,” breathed out.

“Hey.”

Now that they were face to face, neither of them seemed to know what to do other than stare at each other’s eyes. It would have been weird, it should have been weird, but yet it wasn’t. It never was with Cas, no matter what really normally awkward things he said.

Dean lifted his arms up slightly which seemed to break the curse. Cas flung his arms around Dean and pulled them close. “Hello.”

“You already said that.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“Apologizes.”

“Whatever.” Dean figured he should pull away. Just standing there with their arms around each other was stupid. Cas wasn’t pulling away though. Cas was the one who called; Cas was the one who said he was going to get to Dean’s place no matter what; it was Cas who let the hug go on. Of course, it was Dean who couldn’t seem to mind.

Eventually, Cas pulled back. It was only enough for them to look at each other properly again, but not far enough for Dean to justify removing his hands from Cas’s waist. It wasn’t like Cas was much better; his hands were still resting on Dean’s shoulders.

“I needed to see your face,” Cas confided.

The words both seemed to echo through the air and get snagged like brambles in it. They repeated themselves in Dean’s brain, overlapping until it just became a buzz. He swallowed heavily. Cas watched the movement with rapt attention. “Just my face?”

“I don’t mind that your body came a long.” Eyes still trained on Dean’s Adam’s apple.  

Dean was tempted to make a dirty joke out of that, to defuse the situation with humor, to ignore how the hands on his shoulders started to travel up onto his face. His mouth wasn’t working though. His body wasn’t working right either by the seam of it. It leaned into Cas’s palm without permission.

“Dean.” It sounded like a prayer.  “You must be tired.”

Yes, but he didn’t want this moment to end. Not now, not ever. Not even when the early fall turned to winter, not when the breeze would blow cold air until they couldn’t feel their fingers, he wanted to stay right here next to Cas. God, writing an actual romance was making him so disgustingly poetic it hurt. “I don’t want to let go.” Dean’s voice only came out in a hoarse whisper.

“I don’t either.”

Self-restraint be damned, Dean let his body move forward. Cas found him halfway.

It was literally the simplest kiss ever. It could barely be called a kiss. It was more a pressing of lips than anything.

Dean pulled back a fraction of an inch. Cas took this as an invitation to start nuzzling his jaw. “We’ve gotta stop writing romance. We’re becoming saps.”

Cas hummed along Dean’s jawline. “I don’t mind.”

They leaned together for one more chaste kiss before finally untangling themselves. Somewhere in the processes though, their hands locked together. Dean’s shoes were a bit difficult to take off without the use of one hand, but he managed. Fumbling into a comfortable position in bed was harder, but neither of them let the other’s hand go.

They managed to settle facing each other. Cas’s eyes still startlingly blue with the dim moonlight fluttering in. Yeah, Dean was becoming a total sap.

“This could be the end of our book you know,” Dean said.

“One of them flies across the globe to be with the other.”

“Yeah. Cheesy, but that’s sorta the point of this thing.”

“I would like that.”

Dean rubbed circles on the back of Cas’s hand with his thumb. He waited until Cas’s breathing completely settled before whispering, “Yeah, I’d like that too.”

Cas hid his smile into the crook of Dean’s neck.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, Dean found himself making pancakes at ten o’clock at night in an apartment he had never been in.

The weirdest part was the comfortable warmth behind him.

Cas had casually hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder like he had done it all his life. Dean should have been surprised, but, Dean had to hand it to the guy, Cas always had an air of confidence to what he did.

They hadn’t actually said anything to each other yet. Dean couldn’t help but worry what sort of conversation they would have. Sure, they had plenty of online and text interactions. This was only the second time they were even in the same room.

He tried to level out his breathing as much as he could. It helped the worst of the shaking. It didn’t stop him from struggling with flipping this damn pancake though.

Cas made a low chuckling noise as he stroked Dean’s arms. Dean could feel Cas begin to talk which sent a spike of anxiety through him. He shouldn’t have been worried though because Cas said, freaking of course said, “Do you think Maria and Britch will get together at the end?”

The sheer fact that that was the first thing Cas said to him all day almost made him smile. Almost. Instead, Dean rolled his eyes. “This is like the sixth time you’ve asked, Cas.”

“I’m invested in their well-being.”

“Well being is the new term for dating each other or something.”

“Yes.” Cas shifted himself so that he could look Dean straight on. That meant Cas causually sitting on the counter which should _not_ have been as cute as it was.“Why are you opposed to it? You were willing to have David and Cassidy date?”

“It’s just…” Dean trailed off. He rubbed at his face with his palm before starting over. “When Sammy and I were young, my mom died. My dad couldn’t stay near things that reminded him of her, so we ended up moving a lot. Soon as Sammy could complain about things, he did. Why were we always moving? Why were we always piss poor? Those sort of things.”

“So you created the stories to tell him.”

“Yeah. Britch was doing it solo for a while. I kinda based her off Sammy; just made her a girl to annoy him. Named her Bitch for a while until I got serious about it all.” Dean flipped another pancake. This time it went smoothly. “Then he started asking about what Mom was like.”

“Maria.” Maria for Mary.

“Yeah, told him it was me at first. He caught on pretty quick though. He’s always been a smart kid.”

“So the love they feel has always been a familial one.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know anymore, man,” Dean sighed, frustrated at his own inability to get inside his own character’s hearts. “They got sorta out of hand. I haven’t thought of them as Sam and Mom as a long time. I think it started to be, well, something recently.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Actually, I planned for one to die; just do a cop out with some ambiguous love confession.” Dean glanced up at Cas, smiling but more out of nerves than anything. “But, you know what, I think they just might end up together. You know, if you really want that.”

“I would.”

“Seriously?”

“It would make me very happy.”

“That’s good. I mean, great. I mean, shoot.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck timidly. “Are we still talking about them or, well, you know…” Dean trailed off.

Cas gave a toothy smile. “Both.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome.” Dean did indeed look full of awe.

Awe and panic.

So Cas did what he felt most like doing.

He grabbed Dean’s shirt and pulled him forward for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

Epilogue

_“This series has been dedicated to a lot of people. For this book though, it was written all for Captain Cas.”_

 

It was weird. Dean was crowned as the newest “LGBT” icon in literature with talk show hosts (metaphorically) clawing his door just to get him on their shows while Cas didn’t get a single drop of credit. It was understandable at least. No one actually knew who this mysterious “Castiel” was who co-wrote “Bi-Polar” or the “Cas” who gave that last push for Maria and Britch to get together. It was the general conception they were the same person, but that was about all people actually knew.

“They want both of us on a show sometime,” Dean told Cas one day.

“Maybe someday.” And that was the end of the discussion.

The internet went batshit after Dean accidentally called Castiel “Cas” while talking about Bi-Polar. With that confirmed, everyone moved onto figuring out who this “Cas” was. Eventually, Dean caved under the pressure and mentioned that “Cas actually writes books that are as famous as mine.” That made a huge wave in the community once again trying to compare the writing in Bi-Polar with every author who ever wrote a book ever.

Dean apologized for that, but Cas said he didn’t mind.

They still never went onto any program together. Dean tried not to mind.

At one point, one of the hosts asked if Dean and Cas were an item. Sadly, the show was live so everyone got to see Dean stare helplessly at nothing for a good thirty seconds until the host laughed awkwardly and asked a different question. This of course set another online wave where people seemed to come to the same conclusion Dean must be undeniably and irrevocably in love with this Cas. It got to the point where even Cas was fed up (barely three days) and said just to say that they were.

So Dean admitted they had been together for nearly 18 months through his Twitter right before he went to bed.

 It was his most retweeted post by the time he woke up.

The next day, Cas actually got a Twitter and retweeted the message as his first tweet. This of course sparked a message spam where everyone and their grannies’ asked Dean if it was the same Castiel. That was actually how Dean figured out about the account. After confronting Cas about it and only getting a shrug and “I figured it was time,” Dean told the internet Castiel was indeed slowly coming out from under his rock. About 80% of Dean’s followers immediately followed Cas without another word after that.

“Jimmy” never got into any social media.

Castiel started to thrive off of it.

No, he really thrived off it. Dean was actually convinced that Cas spent more time tweeting than not. It strangely was the best way for Cas to draw suspicion away from his “Jimmy” persona. People would have a hard time putting the Cas who accidentally put on his t shirt the wrong way (and inside out) with the Jimmy who wrote the books that were considered “the most philosophical books of our generation”; the Cas that would randomly tweet something really sickeningly sweet to Dean with the author of “the books with the least chemistry between characters ever”.

By the way, the fact Dean and Cas switched icons to the two main characters in Bi-Polar wasn’t cute.

They were promoting the books god damn it.

It was about two years in when people started to question when “Jimmy Novak” was going to release a new book. Naomi would keep telling the public “Soon. Soon. Very soon.” Cas confided to Dean he didn’t want to use that pen name anymore; he wanted to be Castiel.

He wanted to be Castiel Winchester.

It was lot sooner than Dean imagined getting married but he couldn’t seem to mind.

And alright, maybe when Jimmy Novak mentioned that he had changed his name because he had gotten married was a little cheesy, but Dean yet again couldn’t mind when “Jimmy” told the world he was now Castiel Winchester.

Dean didn’t even mind how many gifs were around of his goofy face the first time Cas went on a show with him.

The internet didn’t seem to mind either.

 

(Dean did mind when Sammy literally stopped the wedding mid ceremony to finally get the autograph he had been waiting years for.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi? Yeah, I forgot to ever finish this up. A lot changed in a little amount of time. Since last year, I got out of the SPN fandom, haven’t seen any of the new season, graduated college with a degree in math, I moved across the country, took my cat on what was an 18 hour car trip (twice), now I’m back in college to get an art degree, found out I was aromantic, proceeded to propose to my gf anyway, moved again, worked two jobs at once, got a new fish, ended up getting four new fish. It’s been fun.
> 
> Anyway, this thing is a mess and I have no motivation to polish it. I figured I owed it to you guys to at least finish it though. I might be around some more later though. I do have a lot of WIPs that I might end up going back to. I am planning on watching the new season now that it’s on Netflix. I also am obsessed with All for the Game so… yeah fanfics for that also might happen lol.
> 
> Thanks for all the support even though I don’t deserve a lick of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a writer's block so I wrote about characters having a writing block.


End file.
